A Galway Girl
by a-bit-of-madness
Summary: A Muggle A/U inspired by the song Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran. Draco and his friends go into a Galway pub while on holiday, and a certain girl catches Draco's eye as she plays with the band. Maybe a week in Ireland won't be so dreadful after all...


**A/N: Hello, this is just a little one-shot that I was inspired to write after listening to Galway Girl by Ed Sheeran on repeat for three days straight. Hope you like it!**

 **-Em**

"Would you stop being such a prat?" Theo huffed, shoving his moody friend ahead of him as they strolled down the high street. "We're on holiday, its supposed to be fun!"

"Holiday is going somewhere exotic or interesting," the blonde drawled. "We're in Galway."

"Yes we are," the third friend smirked, a particularly noticeable spring in his step. "And it's a bloody good place to be. Pub on every corner, no shortage of beautiful women, who wouldn't want to be in Galway?"

"You're only saying that because you're bloody sloshed."

"And proud of it!"

"You know Drake, if you weren't in such a foul mood, I think you'd find that you like it here," Theo said, leading the group towards a pub that looked particularly crowded. "Just try to have fun, will you?"

"Fine," he sneered. "I'll _try._ But that doesn't mean I will."

"Someone get this man a pint!" their drunken Italian friend cried, tumbling through the doors of the pub ahead of them. "He's being a right wanker!"

"It's going to be a long night," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.

It had been Theo's idea for them all to go away together. Having recently graduated from Oxford, they were all in need of a break and it had seemed like a great idea. Draco had figured they would go somewhere like Australia- a week of surfing would have been great, or perhaps a few weeks in Asia- staying in hostiles and chatting up pretty girls who barely spoke English on the beach, that would have been brilliant too. But no, neither of those ideas had been acted upon. Instead, Blaise had insisted that he knew the perfect place to get away and that it wouldn't cost them a dime, because his family owned a house there. It had seemed perfect, until he showed up at Draco's flat the previous morning and announced that they were headed to Ireland. They drove there, they didn't even have to take a bloody plane it was so close. They'd just spent four years slaving to get their degrees, and _this_ was where his friends thought they should get away to? They had barely even left the bloody UK!

"You've got to give it a chance, mate!" Blaise had insisted. "It's great here!"

So far, the only thing that seemed so great about it was the number of pubs available, and that wasn't exactly a change from every other night Draco had enjoyed since turning 16.

Theo and Blaise insisted that this was the holiday that they all needed, so Draco stayed for their sakes. At least the alcohol wouldn't run out, being drunk might be the only thing that got him through this trip.

They'd been in the pub for a half hour or so when a commotion started around the tiny stage beside the bar- if you could even call it a stage. It wasn't that this was unusual, Draco had frequented many places over the years that offered live music, but he always found that Ireland put more emphasis on the entertainment. You couldn't make it through a night there without at least one person getting up and performing a jig or starting the whole pub in on a song or two. Knowing this as he did, Draco didn't pay much attention as the band took the stage, nor when they started to play. It wasn't until he went to get another round that he saw her.

He was leaning against the bar, tapping his foot to the music while he waited for his drinks, and he saw her out of the corner of his eye- her hair, to be specific. He had never seen hair so wild. The colour of dark chocolate, with the vaguest hints of blonde throughout, the mass of curls seemed to have a life of it's own, flying this way and that as she played her fiddle energetically. From her hair, he moved on to studying her face and he couldn't help but note that she was beautiful. She was almost as pale as he was- and that was saying a lot- with a splash of freckles across her nose that reminded Draco of a constellation. Her cheeks were tinged red with excitement and heat, and she smiled so brightly Draco couldn't help but smile back at her. Forgetting about his drinks, he began to make his way up to the stage, wanting nothing more than to be near this girl.

As he got closer, he saw the way she swayed her hips as she played, her combat boot clad foot tapping out a beat. She wore a black knee length dress with the sides cut out, and ripped tights the colour of a candy apple. The more he watched her, the more entranced Draco became, and he couldn't help but clap along with the rest of the crowd as she took a solo, her tongue slipping from the corner of her mouth as she tried to concentrate on the music, her smile never wavering.

As she played, her eyes drifted over the crowd and Draco could have sworn that she looked at him and winked. It was in that moment that he decided he had to meet this girl.

"Oi!" Theo appeared at his side, suddenly, clapping him on the shoulder and shaking him from his reverie. "What are you doing? We've been waiting for an hour!"

"It's been five minutes," Draco tore his eyes from the fiddle player and turned to face his friend, his annoyed expression reappearing. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"Since when are you into musicians?" Theo asked, knowing exactly what had his friend so enthralled.

"I don't know what you're on about," Draco said, retrieving his drinks. "Are you gonna help me carry these, or what?"

Theo chortled and grabbed the glasses Draco had left, following him back to their table, where Blaise had made more than a few new friends- all of the female persuasion and looking at their drunken friend like he was God himself.

"Christ, can't leave him alone for a second," Theo rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's leave him to it."

They elbowed their way towards a table nearer the stage- much to Draco's delight- and turned their attention back to the entertainment. As usual, someone had jumped up to dance and a crowd encircled them, clapping out a beat as the band played on. Theo happily joined in, turning his attention from Draco, allowing his friend to go back to staring at the fiddle player.

When the song finally came to an end, she leaned forward so that her hair fell towards the floor, then flipped her head back quickly, throwing the curls back out of her face, breathing heavily after the exhaustive performance but smiling even brighter than before. Once again, Draco could have sworn that she met his eyes, but before he could be sure, she had turned and jumped down from the stage, disappearing from view.

"You know, I've never been a huge fan of the traditional stuff, but that was pretty good," Theo mused, turning back to Draco.

"Yeah," the blonde nodded vaguely. "It was alright, I guess."

While Theo droned on about this and that, Draco's eyes roamed the crowd, watching for the wild curls he so wanted to have wrapped around his hands. He spotted her at the bar, laughing at something the bartender had said and taking shots of what looked to be whiskey.

As the night went on, Draco continued to watch her, only half listening to whatever his friends were going on about at any given moment, and not paying any notice at all to the other girls that came and went from the table, flirting with Blaise and Theo.

He was up getting another round when she appeared at his side, a flaming look in her eyes that made him terrified and incredibly attracted to her all at the same time.

"Are ye gonna buy me a drink, or are you just planning on watching me all night like a love sick puppy?" she demanded, the lilt in her voice significantly undercutting the angry look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry?" Draco frowned, not wanting to admit that she was right.

"Come off it," she snorted. "I saw you watching me while I played, and I've felt you watching me ever since I stopped. So, are you gonna buy me a drink or keep playing the coward?"

"What are you drinking?" Draco smirked, waving the bartender over again.

She didn't even bother telling him, but simply gave the bartender a nod. A moment later, two pints and two shots of whiskey appeared in front of them.

"You've got him well trained," Draco observed.

"I've got every bartender in town trained," the girl smirked and raised her shot glass. " _Sláinte_ ."

Draco raised his own glass in salute before downing the drink.

"I'm Drake," he held out his hand.

"Hermione."

"Oi, Herms!" a lanky man with flaming red hair stumbled towards them and threw his arm around her shoulder. "You were bloody brilliant up there, you were! Right fierce!"

"Thanks Ronald," she pursed her lips.

"Seamus! Another round here!" Ronald bellowed at the bartender. "We're celebrating!"

"Oh yeah, what?" Seamus asked, obviously not at all interested.

"Tonight's my night! I've got a free gaff, and I'm taking Herms here with me."

"Eff off, Ron," Hermione ducked out from underneath his arm.

"Oi, don't be like that Herms!" Ronald pouted. "I'm only codding ya."

"Sure ye are," she rolled her eyes and picked up her beer, nodding for Draco to follow her.

Not wanting to argue with the wild-eyed woman, Draco complied, grabbing the drinks he'd bought for his friends as well so he could drop them off.

"Herms! Where you going?!" Ronald started to stumble after them, but Seamus clapped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him on a bar stool.

"She's found herself a far finer thing than you, mate," he said. "Have a pint and shut yer trap."

"He seems great," Draco offered sarcastically.

Hermione's only response was to flip him the bird as she weaved through the crowd. She came to a stop at a booth near the back of the pub where a girl with hair as red as Ron's sat cuddled up to a boy with messy black hair and glasses. Beside the couple was another boy with brown hair and a look on his face that said he was incredibly uncomfortable.

"What have you done to poor Nev, then?" Hermione asked, sliding into the booth and pulling Draco to sit beside her.

"Nothing!" the girl cried.

"She's trying to find me a bird again," the nervous looking boy shuddered.

"Would you rather I find you a bloke? I'd be more than happy to."

"I'd rather you went back to shagging Potter and left me alone," he grumbled.

"Well isn't that a grand idea," Hermione smirked. "Off you pop, Gin."

The redhead seemed to take this suggestion quite literally, suddenly disappearing under the table.

"Right, now then," Hermione turned to Draco as though nothing at all was happening across the table from them. "What's this mean?"

She pulled the collar of his shirt aside and pointed to the tattoo he had across his collarbone.

"Uh, it's Welsh," he stammered, forcing himself to look at her.

"I can see that," she nodded. "Not many languages stick B's and W's beside each other. What does it say?"

"Gormod o bwdin dagith gi," Draco recited the phrase, blessing his mother for her insistence that he learn her native tongue as he saw the look it sparked in Hermione's eyes.

"And what does that mean?" she rolled her eyes.

"Too much pudding will choke a dog."

"Well, that's brilliant, that is," Hermione laughed melodically, turning to look at her friend. "Isn't that brilliant Nev?"

"It's certainly not wrong," he acquiesced. "You come up with that yourself, mate?"

"Nah," Draco shook his head. "My mum's Welsh, and she made me learn the language when I was a kid. I asked her what her favourite Welsh saying was one day, and that was what she said."

"So you actually speak Welsh, do you?" Hermione looked impressed. "You didn't just pick a few words and learn them?"

"Speak it, read it and write it," Draco nodded. "It's not a very useful thing to know, but it certainly helps when I'm trying to impress a girl."

"It certainly does," she smirked. "Come on."

She pushed at his shoulder until he got up from the booth, quickly following and taking his hand. "Where are we going?" Draco asked, not really caring what the answer was.

"I'm going to kick your arse at darts," she said matter of factly. "But first, we're going to have another shot. Seamus!"

"Haven't dragged him into the jacks for a shag yet, I see?" Seamus frowned at the brunette.

"Night's young," Hermione assured him, giving Draco a wicked smile. "Two whiskeys."

The bartender nodded and poured the shots quickly, before turning to take the next person's order. Hermione handed Draco one of the drinks, slammed her own back and started making her way towards the dart boards on the other end of the room.

She hadn't been wrong in her announcement that she was going to beat Draco, he got the feeling she could have been blindfolded and still done better than he was. Darts weren't his forte sober, and he definitely was _not_ sober anymore. The game was starting to get truly pathetic when a new band took the stage and gained Hermione's attention.

"Oh, I love this song!" she squealed, dropping her remaining darts onto a table and grabbing Draco's hand. "Dance with me!"

More than happy to move on from embarrassing himself at the game, Draco dropped his own darts and followed. He could tell that she was surprised when he pulled in for a proper dance, instead of the awkward bopping that everyone else seemed to be doing, leading her through something akin to a country reel as the rock music played. Her surprise didn't last long, though, and by the second song they were completely in sync, spinning around the bar as if they'd been dancing together for their whole lives.

When a familiar tune struck up, the entire bar let out a cheer and Hermione pulled Draco closer, standing on tiptoe so she could speak directly into his ear.

"Let's get out of here," she shouted. "I know a place, come on!"

Draco didn't even think twice before nodding. As soon as they were outside, she broke into a run, her hair flying behind her.

"Well, come on!" she called, turning to see if he was following.

"Why are you running?" Draco frowned, strolling along leisurely.

"Why aren't you?" Hermione countered.

"I don't enjoy physical exertion outside of the bedroom," he drawled.

"You're going to miss out on quite a lot of shagging in that case," Hermione smirked, then turned and rushed off again in a mix of a skip and a run, leaving Draco to pick his jaw up off the sidewalk and chase after her.

As she lead him through the streets of Galway, Draco had to admit that he was starting to understand why Blaise had been so adamant about coming here. There really was an air of magic about the place, and he was pretty sure it was coming from the slightly mad woman in front of him.

On one corner, they came across a couple of buskers, a man playing an accordion while a girl danced. Without a moment's hesitation, Hermione kicked off her boots and fell into step beside the girl, waving for Draco to join them.

"Not a chance," he shook his head and pulled a ten pound note from his wallet to drop in the accordion player's hat.

Hermione rolled her eyes and focused on her dancing again, her hair flying about wildly as she kicked and shuffled through the song. When she'd had enough, she began to lead Draco away again, coming to a stop at a set of stairs leading into a basement pub.

Three pints and a massacre of a pool game later, they sat in a cozy booth chatting drunkenly, inching closer and closer to each other with every minute that passed.

"So, Drake, what was it brought you to Galway?" Hermione asked, propping her elbow on the table and resting her head in her hand.

"My mates insisted its a magical place that we needed to visit."

"By mates, you mean Blaise Zabini?"

"How do you know Blaise?" Draco frowned.

"He pops up every now and then and tries to lure all the girls in town away," Hermione shrugged. "Been doing it as long as I can remember."

"That sounds like Blaise," Draco laughed. "So, has he ever managed to lure you?"

"Not yet, but you never know," she smirked. "I don't think his chances are very good this time round, I'll tell you that much."

"No?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Well there was this fine thing back at the pub that caught my eye, and I'm not easily distracted."

"Really? I didn't get that impression at all," he chuckled.

"Well, I'm not easily distracted from some things," she corrected. "And I've never been one to question the good luck thrust upon me."

"How do you know I'm not very bad luck?" Draco asked, reaching out and tugging at one of her curls.

"I've always been a bit of a chancer," Hermione shrugged, grabbing his shirt front and pulling him towards her quickly, covering his lips with her own.

From that moment on, the evening became a blur. Draco was drunk off of this girl, and he'd never been happier in his life. As he danced with her, stealing kisses at every opportunity and pushing each other against the wall for a good snog more than once, he thanked heaven above that he'd agreed to go on this trip.

Tucked back into their booth while the band took a break, Draco muttered to himself in Welsh as he sucked at her neck and shoulders, his hands tangled in her curls and the gentle mewls she was making spurring him along.

"That's not fair play, you know," she muttered, pulling his face back up to hers. "I can hear you muttering and it sounds rightly poetic, but I haven't got a clue what you're saying."

"Adds an air of mystery to things," Draco smirked, kissing her again. "You could always whisper to me in Gaelic."

"Hm, I'll do you one better," Hermione smirked, tugging his hair roughly. "I'll teach you the only thing you'll ever need to know."

"And what's that?"

"Do teach nó mo chuidse- your place or mine?"

"Duh tchyack no muh quid-sha?" Draco sounded out slowly, far too drunk to be trying to learn a new language.

"Well aren't you just throwin shapes," she smiled brightly. "I thought you'd never ask."

She took his hand and pulled him from the booth, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck so she could pull him down to her own height and kiss him fiercely.

"Well?" she raised an eyebrow. "What's it to be?"

"Ladies choice," Draco smirked.

"Let's leg it, then."

She kissed him one more time before leading him back onto the street and hailing a cab.

"What's this?" Draco traced the tattoo that ran the length of Hermione's spine, a series of lines going in all directions like a kind of code.

"It's Ogham," she turned onto her side so she could see him, taking a moment to move her hair out of the way before continuing. "The old Celtic language?"

"I'm not really up on my ancient pagan religion," Draco admitted, trailing kisses over each line on her spine.

"That's too bad, you'd make a brilliant druid."

"I'll take your word for it," Draco laughed. "What does it mean?"

"Análaigh- it means breathe."

"What about this one?" Draco moved his attention to a collection of words written across her ribs. "I know Grá means love."

"Top of the class," Hermione shivered as he traced each letter slowly. "Grá, Draíocht, Gealtacht- Love, Magic, Madness."

"And this one?" he kissed her shoulder, where there was yet another Gaelic sentence.

"D'fhéadfadh an cat a itheann tú agus an diabhal a itheann an cat."

"You know, I keep asking you what these mean, and you keep answering in Gaelic. I don't know Gaelic, I know Welsh. They're very different."

"Really?" Hermione chuckled, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Really. You see, one is a beautiful language- some would say the language of love- and the other is a collection of garbled noises invented by what I can only assume were cavemen."

"You really shouldn't disparage your own language like that," Hermione shook her head.

Draco snorted. "So what exactly is the cat doing?"

"May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat."

"Sorry?" he leaned back so he could see her face.

"When I was younger, I had a thing for curses," Hermione explained, laughing at the confused look on his face. "In school, we'd get in trouble for effin' and blindin', but I could get away with a hex or two."

"How old were you?" Draco laughed.

"Young," she shook her head. "I think it started when I was 5 or 6."

"So you're 6 years old, running around your K1 class and someone nabs your blocks and you go-"

"May your obituary be written in weasel's piss, you cabbage!"

Draco dropped his head into her shoulder, his entire body shaking with laughter.

"You laugh now, but I never got teased in school, I can tell you that much," Hermione defended herself seriously. "Everyone was convinced I was a witch, it was right fierce."

"You are a very strange woman, Hermione," Draco shook his head.

"All the best ones are," she smiled. "Right, you've seen all my tattoos. My turn now, let's see 'em."

"Hang on, we haven't determined whether or not you're actually a witch yet."

"A funny thing that." She leaned over and pushed him onto his back, straddling his waist and examining him closely. "Don't tell me you've just got the one."

"If you were really a witch, wouldn't you know that?" Draco's hands ghosted across her stomach.

"I'm not that kind of witch," she peppered kisses across his chest, paying special attention to the words across his shoulder. Draco hummed in agreement, momentarily distracted by the things she was doing with her tongue. Then his arm went around her waist and flipped them over. Hermione let out a surprised squeal as her back hit the mattress, but quickly recovered, wrapping her legs around his waist and tugging his face back down to hers.

"I _will_ find them," she muttered threateningly.

"You're going to be disappointed then, love," Draco hovered over her. "I've only got the one."

"We might have to do something about that," Hermione's breath hitched as he sucked at her pulse point.

"Maybe later," he smirked.

"Later," she panted, her nails digging into his back as he slowly worked his way down her body.

When he woke up the next morning, Draco felt like his head was going to explode, but was immediately distracted from this fact when he remembered where he was- laying beside the most amazing woman he'd ever met. Even in her hungover state, she was beautiful. Her hair spread out around her to form a sort of halo, one arm thrown over eyes to shield the sunlight that was coming in through the windows.

"Jesus H Christ, I feel like boiled shit!" she moaned, her voice rough from the evening before.

"Well you sure know how to make a man feel good about himself," Draco snorted.

"Mm, London Boy, were a fucking good shag," she assured him. "I'm in all the right kinds of pain there."

"Happy to hear it."

"Ugh, I need a cuppa," Hermione sighed. "Make yourself useful, yeah?"

"Not a bloody chance," Draco scoffed. "If I move, I think my head might actually remove itself from my neck."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed in agreement, laying completely still for a minute, then rolling over to look at him. "Another go round?"

"What better way to wake up," Draco smirked, pulling her on top of him.

"Hey! What happened to you last night?!" Blaise demanded as Draco stumbled into the house late that afternoon. "We were about to call the bobbies."

"Uh-huh," Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you were really put out my disappearance."

"It was a real inconvenience!" Blaise insisted. "Theo doesn't listen to me when I want to complain about how hungover I am. He locked me in a cupboard!"

Draco laughed heartily at this, picturing his friend huddled under the stairs, moaning about how nobody loved him and how desperately he needed something for the hair of the dog while Theo blissfully ignored him.

"Where is Nott?" Draco asked, looking around for their missing friend.

"Went out to meet a bird," Blaise smirked. "Got her number last night after you and your little siren ran off. Is that where you've been?"

"It most certainly is."

"And will you be seeing your new friend again?"

"Only God himself could stop me."


End file.
